Sweet Adultery

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Eyes down, eyes down, eyes down. He is not in the room. Eyes down. Why am I shaking? Okay, it’s more of a trembling. I’m in a room full of people. Breathe, girl. Breathe.

I held onto my coat tight, like it was a lifeline, as I tried to scan the room looking for someone, anyone, that I might know at the party. All I needed was someone who had an empty chair next to them that I’d be able to crawl into. I needed to be out of the way or at least out of His line of sight. I needed to at least appear comfortable and casual, even if I felt like the room was spinning.

The mysterious He that I was avoiding was a mess of complicated, and in my current disaster of a long-distance, live-in relationship I needed another lover like I needed a hole in my head.

Whether I wanted one or not, I had one. And although the lover I live with from time to time was flying personal jets for billionaires around the globe at this moment. I was at a crowded party filled with people loosely connected to other people who knew that I wasn’t available.

At the same time, He knew I wasn’t available, but it didn’t stop Him. He was all cool and collected when it started. And now, now, He looks at me with a blank face whenever I get the ovaries up to ask the question, “What does this mean?”

Tonight, He stood across the room. I spotted the back of His giant head when I walked in. I tried not to think of how the last time we’d slept together I couldn’t get enough of running my fingers through His hair. I was sad when He combed it straight. But that’s my issue – it all seems so temporary, like the whole thing could be wiped away and no one would ever know there was a “we” here. I leave no marks, but maybe that’s my whole problem.

I’m not going to lie. The Psych 101 factors in our relationship look insurmountable. He likes to remind me that there are generational differences. There are culture differences. And our day-to-days don’t line up at all.

But from across a room, the very idea of Him makes me giddy and hopeful and wet with anticipation. The little bumps stand up at attention on my arms, and I begin to fiddle with my hands with all of my pent up sexual energy. It’s sad, really.

And the poor man, for casting an interested look in my general direction, he got naked privileges, which makes me feel easy as hell, and yet, it opened a door I had never noticed. With Him, it’s like instead of me being a giant mess I might actually be wondrous and beautiful just for being me. A large part of me knows that this feeling is how I know the relationship is based in fantasy. The other small part of me is hopeful that along with the sexual beast in me that He, quite literally, poked awake, I’ll find my backbone in other areas of my life, too.

Right now, I needed to not concentrate on the word “bone” or “back” or anything that might generally make me think of taking my clothes off.

I whip out my phone and start looking like someone has contacted me, so I can slip out of the room with a few comments about work or a friend in need or some other bullshit that would get me out of this lame reception full of hotel banquet hall dry chicken breasts and cheap champagne.

I make my way past Him, out the door and down the hall to the elevator, Bostancı Escort praying I didn’t bring any attention to myself. I get on the elevator with my head still down in my phone and mindlessly push the top floor button. (A benefit of having a boyfriend who flies everywhere and stays in a lot of hotels. He shares his executive floor privileges with views of cities around the world. Don’t think me rude, but he’s shared them with everyone. So, this isn’t really a special gift he gave the love of his life. He gave miles to our postman at the holidays.)

Two men get on the elevator. One is clearly Him. I’d know that body anywhere, but I’m a coward and don’t look up.

At the 15th floor, the elevator stops and the man He’s with starts to get out. He tells the gentleman that He forgot his phone on the table in the reception and He’ll catch him sometime later. Christ.

The elevator door closes and His hand takes my phone and puts it in His jacket pocket. I still can’t look up to meet His eyes.

He whispers my first name. My body opens to Him at the sound of His voice. It’s gentle, knowing. It’s like the first hit of morphine that you take after surgery. You push the button and less than five seconds later you’re subdued and blissful. As He moves His body closer to mine, I shut my eyes and lean my head back against the elevator wall. His lips find my neck as His hands get a firm grip on my hips and slide down to the sides of my thighs. I grasp onto His broad shoulders as His fingers slip under my short skirt, clutch my bare ass and lift me up against the wall. I wrap my legs around His waist in response as if it’s the most normal thing to do. It’s like I’ve done it a million times, rather than just four.

“Look at me,” He demands.

I open my eyes slowly.

“I noticed you the moment you walked in the room. It’s impossible not to. You are a ferociously beautiful woman.”

And really, how could I not kiss Him after that comment?

He reciprocates my kiss and slides His tongue between my lips. I can hear the floors dinging as we get closer and closer to my floor.

“We need to get out of this elevator,” He whispers in my ear. I nod. It’s much too crowded of a hotel to use the emergency stop button or to fuck properly before getting to the floor.

At the top floor, we stumble out of the elevator. I take his hand and lead him down the hall to my corner suite. Before I can reach for the key card in my purse, he’s already lifting my skirt up in the hallway next to the stairway exit. It’s only 10 steps to my room.

I lean forward to try and hurry, but His right hand is between my legs. It stops my momentum. His palm cups my vagina and he pulls me back to him. His left hand crosses over my body to tease my nipples. I start rocking my hips back and forth pushing my clit against the flat of his hand in response.

He obliges me by inserting his finger, which wins Him a squeal of delight. I rock back pushing the single digit further into my body praying that no one walks out into the hallway. Then as the thought passes my mind, the elevator chime rings signaling someone is about to be on the floor.

I break out of the hold and throw myself into the door to the stairs. I take them Erenköy Escort up with him hot on my tail. We reach the roof access. I push it open and look around for something to wedge into the door so it doesn’t lock behind us. Happy to find a piece of wood for the purpose thanks to a number hotel workers’ smoke breaks, estimating from the butts on the ground. He takes it from me and shoves it into the door.

Then it’s just us, on an urban roof 30 floors up overlooking the city. The lights of the surrounding office buildings are on, but no one is home because it’s Saturday night. Apartments have more window treatments, so it’s impossible to see if someone can spot us, but at this point, it really doesn’t matter.

I dive at Him wrapping my legs around His waist again. He turns us around and leans me up against the cement wall next to the door. I kiss Him while I push the sports jacket off of His shoulders, helping Him tear the clothing from His body. Then I start on the buttons on His shirt, but I don’t have the dexterity, so I just pull the shirt apart, popping buttons off right and left. In a flash, I lift my shirt over my head happy to feel His skin on mine. He unbuttons His pants and pulls His underwear down over His erection.

I loosen my leg grip on his lower back and slide down his body until I’m at the right level for Him to enter me.

“Oh Jesus,” He whispers as He begins to move in and out of my body.

I’m trying to get over the fact that I’m not sure what is turning me on more — the fact that my biggest secret is exposed to anyone who might see us or the fact that my body is.

I can tell I’m getting a bit too heavy to hold onto in that position, so I disengage and let my legs go loose. I push him back toward a 4’x4′ raised flat surface. It’s enough for Him to lay His upper body down. I climb over Him so that I’m standing with my legs straddling His hips.

“When did you start not wearing underwear?” He asks with a smug grin on his face as I began to hitch up my skirt.

“The moment you told me it would drive you mad to know you could have easy access anywhere,” I responded lowering myself down. As we connect, his eyes shut. I begin to ride him slow at an even pace. He moans. As I quicken my pace, he places his hands on my hips and helps with the rhythm. It feels amazing. His penis is rubbing the exact right spot. I push harder and tighten my vaginal grip.

“Yes!” I gasp and then I start to moan incredibly loud. His eyes fly open, and He watches as I rock my body against His three more times. “I’m cumming,” I announce, as if He couldn’t have guessed by all the noise.

But I’m surprised that halfway through my orgasm, He starts His. His penis hardens completely just before He ejaculates. His hips jump up and down under me, and He blows air out of his mouth in little grateful puffs while taking sharp, excited inhales between them.

When we’re done, we rearrange our clothes and head back down the stairs to my suite. I offer him a drink from the mini fridge and turn on the shower. I expect Him to turn on the TV and hang out. But instead, He uses the bathroom and then joins me in the shower.

It’s not hot and heavy like it was on the roof. He’s gentle. Tender. He puts Göztepe Escort shower gel on a washcloth and starts washing me as we both stand in the warm spray. I lean forward a bit and put my arms on the shower wall. He takes his time at my shoulders, going down my arms, under my armpits and further down my back. He’s doing a pretty thorough job — and then He gets to my ass. Instinctively, I bend forward even more, but He washes one cheek and then the other and continues onto my legs and feet. Getting so low requires him to get on his knees. And in order to do the front of my legs he slides around the cramped shower, so he’s sitting in front of me.

His lips go to my vagina and my legs begin to shake at the contact. I place my hands on the side of the shower and widen my stance. As he licks and sucks and nibbles, one of the tips of His fingers carefully presses into my ass. In response, I tighten my glutes and lean forward into Him.

“Relax,” he says ever so calmly. “I come in peace.”

I giggle a little and bend down to kiss the top of his head. He gets back to work, this time, he lubes his finger in my vagina before gently coaxing my back door open.

“Lie down,” he says. I slide down onto the shower floor and he removes the sprayer from the shower head, turns down the pressure and rotates the massager to a single blast of water. He sprays down the tiles around me and then my body, to keep me warm before he puts the sprayer into his left hand and points the water stream directly at my clit.

I lift a hand to my mouth and and bite my finger to keep from shouting for joy. It feels tremendously good. Next, I feel something smooth and round enter me. I never thought to use my round shampoo bottle like this. He moves it in and out a few times. I moan. On the fifth insertion, I feel his right middle finger insert entirely into my anus. I’m stuffed full. He slowly pulls the hand and bottle out half way and then pushes them back in. I lift my hips to fuck them with his rhythm.

“How does that feel?” he asks.

“Good.” I reply between heavy pants. “But I wish it was your penis again.”

He smiles and pushes them deeper into me. I clench down and feel the wave coming. “Right there,” I growl feeling the uncontrollable spasms begin. My muscles tighten onto His finger and the Shampoo bottle. When I’m done, he withdraws the “toy” and his finger and kisses my nipples.

“I’m not sure I can move,” I whisper.

“Take your time,” He responds, standing up to shut off the water.

I slowly straighten my legs against the floor and come up to sitting. For some reason, my left leg always cramps when I orgasm with bent legs. I stretch them and stand up in the shower. He has vacated already. When I grab my towel and wrap it around my body, He hands me a soda.

“What would you like to do now?” I ask sweetly.

He smiles and responds that we’re reading the same book. He asks what page I’m on, so I tell him. Turns out he’s about 50 pages ahead of me. So we lie down on the bed and he begins to read to me were I left off. I snuggle into his chest and close my eyes and I listen to the gentle tone of his voice far more than I focus on what’s actually happening in the book.

“Gorgeous, are you sleeping?” he whispers into my ear some time later.

I’d nodded off somewhere a warm and happy woman. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he answers, putting the book down, kissing me on the top of my head and wrapping his arms around me. “I’ve got nowhere I’d rather be.”

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